3. Spiegel
Even through the comfortable chariot ride where he and Seerose could catch up on some much-needed sleep, Paul’s eyes refused to waver in their soreness.
His whites were mildly bloodshot, and minor bags had formed under his eyes despite his steely exterior, unmatched stoicism complimented with his full Equestrian Uniform ensemble. The nascent-morning chill nipped at his bare hands, and he had half a mind to scold himself for not donning his more formal gloves.
Paul’s shoes were shined to perfection, one able to see their reflection stare back at them. The dark-grey uniform was decorated proudly on the breast with his hard-earned medals, both local and substitutes for those he lost from Earth. His white dress-shirt underneath his uniform jacket was stainless and his black tie held the perfect knot to both literally and figuratively hold his getup together. He pulled his rolling luggage behind him and hefted a briefcase in his left hand.
And finally, his visor-cap lay proudly atop his skullcap, its raised portion playing host to the metal insignia of Equestria’s coat of arms that shimmered brilliantly in the eastern, rising sun…
…a sunrise he would be sailing toward to deal with the fate of a continent.
Paul’s face was without blemish, clean-shaven, and accented by two wrinkles on either side of his mouth that were made more prominent upon the stoic downturn of his lips.
He was Paul Werner; a man, a German, a soldier.
And at the proverbial frontline ready for duty when Equestria announced his call.
The German Officer knew his task before him; what was at stake personally and to millions of ponies around the world. He knew both the marvelous fruits to bear from success and the horrific consequences of failure.
But ultimately, as he stared out in the barely-crowded harbor of Manehattan, Paul knew from the bottom of his wounded heart that there was only one motivation to his actions beyond the veils of honor and national pride:
A duty to his kin.
A love for his daughter.
And said daughter—shockingly awake at this hour—stood tall and proud for her short height as she nuzzled against Paul’s right leg.
Such small action placed tactical cracks in his steely visage; it was always the little things that ended up causing him to lose his composure when it mattered the most.
But when it came to the crimson-maned, porcelain-white-coated Seerose, he would have it absolutely no other way.
Besides, he could always take a roller to his pantlegs if any of her coat managed to rub off on him.
It always did.
Paul and Seerose were not alone, but for a moment as Paul stared down at his daughter as she, in turn, stared into the sunrise, he felt all was right in the world.
Seerose felt his gaze on her and she turned her face up to meet his… and smiled a wide, if tired smile that conveyed her unfathomable pride in him.
He was her father… the superhero Equestria and the world needed.
And she, in turn, would have things no other way… events having been as they were.
They shared their little moment, and like clockwork from bestowed habits, they turned back toward their ultimate destination. Seerose’s expression, as well, molded into a more neutral one, courtesy of Paul.
Princesses Luna and Celestia took their first steps from their chariot and flanked the odd little family on the right and left respectively. Paul noted that the former was about as much on the brink of sleep as he, while Celestia was as perky and chipper as always in her step.
And in the little loving moment that Paul and Seerose had shared, they failed to notice something that was most odd with the scenery… something that had not been disclosed to the human.
Namely, the Alemaneian battleship peacefully at anchor in the port.
Paul attempted to blink any residual sleepiness out of his annoyingly sore eyes but to little avail… yet, that same dreadnought continued to float imposingly in Equestrian waters. The same flag he had come to know a little more intimately than he would like flew with its own sense of inanimate pride over the bridge. Four massive batteries of enormous bore diameter remained in synchronous position and unloaded, while at least two-dozen Alemaneian soldiers of all races went about their business loading up the ship for imminent departure.
And as the group of four closed in with a cadre of guards flanking them, the chorus of irritated yells and barked orders could be heard much clearer.
“So,” Paul ventured to say with a mildly uncertain tone, addressing the elephant in the room.
Or rather, the ship in the harbor.
“Am I to assume this is my transport?”
Celestia giggled.
“This was actually somewhat last-minute,” she informed. “From the last exercise you and the General participated in, the Alemaneians left some equipment behind and had to send another ship to collect the rest of it; this is that ship.”
Paul raised an eyebrow.
“It took that long to arrive from the mainland?”
Luna shook her head.
“No,” she said. “It was on deployment to one of the Imperial Alemaneian Empire’s former colonies to retrieve some other supplies. That trip happened to take a while.”
She nudged her head towards the ironclad warship.
“It is indeed on a one-way trip to the Alemaneian homeland. It should not take more than a few days on calm seas and magically-charged engines, as planned.”
Paul nodded slowly, his eyes scanning for anything that may have been perceived as a trap from this distance. Yet, as they closed in, he could find nothing out of the ordinary.
It was just an odd method of taxi service, was all.
To his immediate right, Seerose’s eyes lit up brightly, her sapphire pools impossibly reflecting all the light that Celestia’s Sun gave off.
“Ja?!” she asked with little haste. “You get to ride on a battleship, Papa?!”
A conservative, lopsided smirk was etched onto Paul’s features.
“So it would seem!”
Movement and loud chatter to the group’s right ceased all conversation as a group of four black uniform-clad Alemaneian soldiers hefted a gargantuan crate of artillery shells. One unicorn, two pegasi, and an earth pony occupied a respective corner as they continued to struggle against the munitions’ combined weight.
“Pardon us! Sorry!” one of the pegasi strained out as they brushed right past the odd group without a single bit of situation awareness as to who it was made up of.
The unabashed, unaware chatter, however, did not end as they meandered their way towards their ship.
Especially when the crate dipped a little too low and slammed a corner into the concrete ground.
“CAREFUL! It’s artillery shells, retard! You wanna kill us all?!” the other pegasi trooper lambasted his comrade who let the munition crate sink a little too far.
The pony in question quickly regained her bearings but was quick to come back indignant. She seethed out her reply:
“Oh yeah, that’s real rich coming from you, Mister ‘Let me shag my Equestrian marefriend for two days straight and shirk patrol duty!' Get fucked!”
The unicorn, apparently the group’s commanding officer, was not too keen on their banter.
“Will you two assholes shut up? Damage these shells or keep complaining and I’ll put you all on half-pay for a month! So lift, you turds!”
Their continued banter was drowned out in the wake of their distance and the sounds of the ocean.
Paul was finally able to get out of his stooped position and remove his hands from Seerose’s ears, much to the latter’s hilarity.
Now was not the time to expose her to ‘soldier speak.’
But the joke was on Paul, as Seerose’s little secret was that she was always listening to him silently swear at anything and everything.
She had picked up quite the lot of vernacular.
Celestia and Luna also could barely stifle their laughter. While they were not well-versed in the Alemaneian language, Paul’s actions spoke volumes and infinitely louder than translated words ever could.
Just before the boarding ramp of the ship, the four were intercepted by a high-ranking army officer. Paul was not completely familiar with the rank insignias and designations, as they varied somewhat from the Wehrmacht.
The lanky, off-white stallion saluted to the group. Paul returned the gesture in kind.
“Guten Morgen, Alle,” the officer greeted coolly, then delivered a respectful bow to the Princesses.
He did not allow the others to return the greeting, however, and continued as he sized up the human. His own cool gaze was barely a match for Paul’s lifetime of experience in a mere few years. There were just some perks that war could not afford anyone else.
The princesses were only there to see Paul off, and opted to listen to the silent communication between their mutual human friend. They did not get involved.
“I am to presume you are Colonel Paul Werner, yes?” the pony officer spoke in what Paul would consider a heavy Southern German accent.
He nodded once.
“You presume correctly.”
The stallion’s nostrils flared as he huffed, then began a full, yet terse explanation of the situation.
“Very well. General Land has ordered us to provide you safe and expedited transport across the ocean and to the Fatherland should you have chosen to accept her offer to talk. It is time to board at this moment, so I suggest you say your goodbyes now.
And without any further interaction, the officer delivered another curt salute and took his leave.
Paul gripped the handles of his suitcase and briefcase that much tighter, stepping forward so he could turn to look back at his entourage.
His first sight upon looking down was Seerose, whose bright smile had waned completely in the face of Paul’s impending departure. She pawed mindlessly at the ground and averted her increasingly misty gaze, lest she incur the disappointment of her militarily stone-faced father.
And for her sake, Paul always tried to never show that side directed at her. He was never disappointed in her expressing rightful emotion.
It was he who was poor at it.
Paul knelt down an cupped his filly’s chin so she would look at him.
“You be good, Röslein, ja? I’ll be back in two weeks.”
Seerose bit her lip nigh painfully, and the tears had welled up well-past the point where there was little obstacle for the flowing rivulets down her cheeks—painfully obvious with her pale complexion. Her lips curled unnaturally down as they quivered, and the sniffles began in earnest.
She buried her face into Paul’s chest, who accepted her embrace without hesitation.
“Promise?”
Paul separated a smidge from her so Seerose could have full view of him nodding… a nod so resolute that even one as young as her could not have hoped to disbelieve it. He was a man of his word, and he had always been there for her throughout the length of their small but willing father-daughter relationship.
She had no reason to suspect he would not come through this time around. And through a dampened visage marred with the stains of her fresh emotion and heartache, she etched out a smile—her dimples and pearly whites were on proud display for all Equestria to see.
Her response was strained, but ever determined and resolute:
“G-Go be a hero, Papa…”
Princess Luna would, later, refuse to confirm nor deny that she had to avert her own gaze from the spectacle lest she partake in the emotion.
Just the mere way she expressed herself in the moment made Paul’s stomach churn. His breakfast was meaningless as his abdomen seemed to hollow out—he embraced her tightly. He would rather have charged into Stalingrad if he never had to experience this ever again.
A few tender moments passed as the human held the filly in an embrace, though hours seemed to pass in the early morning light. With a final kiss to her forehead, Paul stood up tall.
“I’ll be home before you know it. Be good for the Princesses, ja?”
All the while, Paul directed a single, proud glance at both of his superiors and friends. The alicorns met his with distinct, knowing smirks of their own. They knew well what Paul meant: take care of my world.
They had given their word to him—they would personally look after her, and Seerose would be left wanting for nothing.
“Okay. I will!”
Princess Celestia giggled.
“We will look after her as if she were our own. Go, Paul, and worry not for her well-being.”
Luna had something to add with equal vigor:
“Seerose will be tended to like a foreign noble.”
That was all the immaculately dressed human needed to hear. With a final, deep nod, he turned on his heels to make his way to the Alemaneian warship…
…though he had one last thing to add over his shoulder with accompanying smirk and snark that was most quintessential of him:
“I do implore you, Your Highnesses… to please attempt to refrain from feeding my daughter ice cream for dinner every night.”
“No guarantees~!” Luna riposted with child-like devilishness, much to Seerose’s amusement.
With the final reassurance fresh on his mind, Paul nodded once more, delivered a playful salute to his daughter (which Seerose returned full-heartedly), and marched to the waiting warship.
Princess Luna’s ears perked up when she felt her right front leg obtain some extra weight. Glancing downward, she found Seerose hugging her tightly as she watched her father walk into the sunrise. The rays glistened off her drying tears, of which she shed no more. A gentle gust from the sea gave her flowing crimson mane a little, hypnotic ripple as it morphed over her pristine-white neck.
“Are you alright, little one?” Luna ventured to ask.
Her sudden words drew Seerose out of her stupor, but she answered immediately with a vehement nod.
“Ja, Princess. I’m well…” she said.
The Lunar Princess turned to her older sister.
“Celestia, shall we get breakfast?”
Celestia glanced back at her sister, then down to Seerose with a bright smile of her own.
"Absolutely! Seerose gets to pick the place!"
And just like that, Seerose's heartache was alleviated just that much.
[Several Days Later…]
Full speed towards the Fatherland was a surprisingly quick journey in Paul’s eyes, considering from Manehattan, they were already in view of the mainland.
In full uniform, Paul unwaveringly stood at the front of the warship, supporting his body against the guardrail as they sped towards the port city—also the capital—Siegstadt.
The ocean wind flowed past his face and served to cool his nerves as their destination appeared ever larger as the seconds droned by. The ethereal sound of the surrounding ocean against the ship’s metal exterior drowned out any other noise and left him at peace by his lonesome… despite being surrounded by soldiers and Alemaneian Kriegsmarine personnel.
The buildings of Siegstadt became much more discernable as the miles waned between them, and he’d no doubt be as close to the hustle and bustle of the Alemaneian capital than he’d ever want to be. This further reinforced Paul’s desire to get his job done as quickly as humanly possible so he could return home.
Home.
But, as he expected the speed of the dreadnought to decrease gradually, their speed remained the same as a sudden left turn was made.
Cocking an eyebrow, Paul was perturbed as his ride was suddenly not aiming for their initial destination… but then again, he never inquired as to where, geographically, they were going. All Paul knew was that he was being taken directly to the pony he needed to talk to.
Paul turned to an Alemaneian army stallion a few feet away, who was also taking in the view much like him.
“Wo gehen wir?!” Paul questioned, his words barely able to be discerned above the roar of the ships mechanics and the ocean.
The soldier stallion turned his attention towards the human.
“Was?!”
Paul tersely shook his head and raised his voice:
“I thought we were going to the capital to see the General!”
“General Land is not in the capital, sir!”
In Paul’s understanding, if she wasn’t in the capital, then that would mean…
“Where the hell is she??”
“The Alemaneian-Mareitonian border! She’s personally overseeing the buildup!”
Paul blinked. He understood good Generals would often present themselves at the potential front lines, but all this meant was that he had much less time than he had initially anticipated. Whatever he needed to do to beat some sense into her self-righteous head, he needed to do it swiftly and he needed to do it now.
Thankfully time happened to be on his side for once, as it did not take more than a few extra hours to reach the sea border with Foalshevia—a large, somewhat recently communist nation bearing striking resemblance to the Soviet Union.
Since Mareitonia was a land-locked nation, Paul was granted reprieve when his Alemaneian transport docked at an appropriate deep-water port to unload personnel and supplies. Dusk was upon them already, but the human was still able to cautiously observe over the starboard bow the hundreds of troops that were stepping onto solid ground.
Orders were being barked and bright floodlights did well to banish the darkness and chaotic nature of this lush, woodsy area. Paul then witness cannons and other war materiel being hauled out from the dreadnought’s cargo bays… howitzer and long-range artillery calibers rolled down the loading ramps with cacophonous screeches of their wheels.
He didn’t even think Equestria possessed such heavy weaponry in her arsenal.
“Colonel Werner.”
Paul perked up and turned on his heels to find the same army captain from before… a light-gray coated stallion with hazel eyes under the ever onyx-black uniform and helmet.
“Yes?”
“Your transport awaits, sir. Please come with me.”
The German nodded once and secured all his possessions he had taken with him. He then gestured with his hand for the earth-pony stallion to lead on.
A set of boot-clad hooves and feet sounded on the metal ground as they made the simple trip down the loading ramp. Even through this simple journey, Paul garnered looks out of everypony that he happened to pass, soldier and civilian volunteer alike. Surprisingly, there were few stares of hate or disgust… but rather, confusion and inquisitiveness.
Paul happened to be more partial to those stares—not that he cared in either case.
He scanned his eyes over the seemingly lush environment, though no details beyond silhouettes against the dusk sky stood out. Nor did the tactically placed floodlights around the rally points help much. Like with the stares he continued to receive as his boots touched Alemaneian soil, he did not care.
Paul did well to tap the left side of his coat, just under his chest, where the holster for his pistol hung snugly against his torso.
An extra bit of reassurance, should he have needed it.
Paul was unceremoniously led to an open carriage transport that was motorized—one of the first he had seen in this world. It was occupied by a few other surplus soldiers that could not fit with the rest of their comrades. It made for a less-crowded abode, though it was no VIP transport by any means.
Not that Paul expected any VIP-like treatment from the Alemaneians… if he knew the tendencies of his parallel nation.
Stepping up into the carriage, Paul placed his suitcase between his legs as he sat down on one of the bench seats that lined the perimeter. He ended up taking position right next to what he figured was a female soldier, clad in expected uniform and getup… if only a sparce glance at her more svelte figure was any indication.
And once again, he was hauled off to yet another location deep within the lushness of this border forest.
As he sat in the back to patiently await his arrival, Paul studied a map that was graciously provided to him by the nameless, higher ranking officer sitting directly across. According to Paul’s estimates in this regard, their convoy had pulled away from the Foalshevian border and we’re now inching closer to the 'infamous' nation of Mareitonia.
All the while, the thought entered into his mind that Paul had, probably, not said more than a couple paragraphs the entire journey from Equestria thus far.
He released a little pressure in his neck as he twisted the tightness out of it. Reaffixing his visorcap to snuggly fit his skull, Paul knew that there would be plenty of time for talking later on.
Few defining features could be made out as the dusk evolved into night, where barely the thick trees could be examined by the light of their convoy. All Paul knew was that he was somewhere on a border region about two thousand miles away from home. That was the gist of it all.
But, even as a soldier by virtue of intense training, Paul felt the presence of an emotion the had not had the… pleasure of feeling in quite some time:
He was bored.
His eyes struggled to keep open even though he had achieved plenty of sleep on the ride across the ocean, nor was he involved in anything physical that would warrant such fatigue.
Such was the paradox of inaction.
Paul knew one way to alleviate such feelings and replace them with more pleasant ones for at least the next few moments. He reached into his right coat pocket, carefully bypassing his pistol and reaching for a flat piece of photo paper.
Even through his onyx-gloved hands, he smiled at its familiar touch, and retrieved the folded piece of photo stock. Unfolding it, he stared into a picture of both he and Seerose. Said picture held the both of them in casual wear in one of Canterlot’s many public parks. Sat on the edge of a large fountain depicting both Celestia and Luna, a t-shirt-garbed Paul cradled his adoptive daughter in a one-armed grasp while the latter was giggling profusely.
This was all followed up with him pointing directly at her while facing the camera—a placidly amused smile was adorned on his face, as if to direct attention to the cute tomfoolery of the light of his life.
Paul huffed as he tenderly held the picture from two diagonal ends, nodding to no one and allowing the monotony of his environment to whittle away… at least for a short while. The rhythmic clacking and creaking of the wheels of their transport in conjunction with the non-rhythmic, frequent bouts of orders being shouted were barely white noise at this point.
Paul felt an entity distinctly paw at his left thigh with a clean, white hoof.
He was instantly awoken from his little daydream and glanced over at the soldier he took a seat next to. Her bright, lavender eyes seemed to impossibly reflect nonexistent light at how wide they were… taken by the simple photo in Paul’s grasp.
“Endschuldigen Sie, bitte…” the soft-voiced mare excused herself, then pointed to the photograph.
She followed up in a tone most inquisitive. Under different circumstances, Paul would’ve found such a tone adorable from such a creature.
“Wer ist das??”
Paul pointed to the still of Seerose.
“Sie?”
The nameless soldier nodded with an open-mouthed smile.
“Ja!”
“Meine Tochter.”
The mares eyes went even wider, and she shifted her gaze rapidly between the picture and Paul’s face. The human did well to keep himself professional and presentable, as always.
“Your… daughter?” she questioned.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Adopted, I presume?”
“Correct. Adopted her from Alemaneia.”
The soldier beamed.
“Really?! She’s absolutely adorable! Such a beautiful young mare you’re raising… you’re Equestrian, right?” she followed up.
Paul huffed as he motioned to correct her by instinct that he was, in fact, German.
“Well…”
But while that was true, that name had no meaning to anyone else but him.
“Naturlich, ja.”
The mare giggled into her hoof at Paul’s sudden pause. She readjusted her helmet and tenderly patted his thigh twice.
“Well, that was quite selfless of you to do. I’m sure the little one’s extremely lucky to have you as a fater.”
Paul smiled and shook his head, especially so in conjunction with his response:
“Believe me, I’m the lucky one.
The soldier mare giggled, ceiling her lavender eyes through her bangs for a moment. Composing herself, her erstwhile jovial complexion returned with full force as she extended her hoof to Paul.
And she felt it only formal to start with her rank.
“Leutnant Schneeblume Herbstlich.”
Paul mirrored her approach, enveloping her tender, yet rugged hoof in his iron grip.
“Oberst Paul Werner.”
The literal instant his rank left his mouth, Schneeblume's features paled and slackened… as if her entire face was gonna slough off from sheer horror and embarrassment.
Paul had to struggle for once in his life to keep his stoicism fronted–Schnee’s lower lip quivered and she focused on everything but Paul himself.
“Oh my God, I’m SO sorry, sir. I had no idea. Please forgive my informality…”.
Paul allowed himself to chuckle at just how worried she was. While there were rules associated with the interaction of military personnel, especially foreign officers, soldiers of the host nation weren’t exactly beholden to them. Beyond potentially bad first impressions, there was nothing to really worry about in any sense, which is why Paul’s first meeting with Aryanne went the way it did.
The German cast an incredulous look toward Schnee.
“Don’t worry. I’m just visiting, really. I personally don’t care and actually am happy to forego the titles once in a while, Lieutenant.”
Schneeblume reaffixed her gaze on his and loosed a meek smile and nod. And to further lift the mare’s spirits, Paul patted the side of her hoof.
“Macht nichts, ja?”
Familiar slang from a Colonel was all it took for the soldier mare to bounce back to what Paul considered ‘normal,’ as if her personality was simply elastic.
The remainder of the ride toward the Alemaneian forward operating headquarters was no longer draped in silence. Instead, much to the simultaneous amusement and annoyance of accompanying officers, Schnee and Paul’s cordial discourse continued in earnest. Schnee decided to share a few photos that she always kept with her, namely one of a group of her and her friends…
…her late friends, that was.
Paul was flabbergasted to learn that such a kind, bubbly mare in uniform was actually quite distinguished in the field. She had fought in the Equidae Continental War—currently this world’s most destructive conflict that had striking mirrors to the one Paul’s father was killed in. Schnee, too, had lost essentially all her school friends in that war.
He never would have guessed based on her outward appearance. But then again, as the thought festered in his mind, he figured that was probably the entire point—to ensure no one saw what was underneath. Perhaps wrongly, as Schnee continued to talk about her fallen friends as if they were back in her home town waiting for her, Paul wondered what scars of her own this mare was hiding?
What horrors did she see?
What self-proclaimed atrocities did she commit?
How is she faring when she’s on her own?
Further, as Paul inquired about little details of the War to supplement what he could get his hands on for reading… how many of the current soldiers were remnants of a conflict long past?
How many just couldn’t leave war?
Flowing conversation was stymied when the convoy entered a very specific portion of the forest, one where the dirt road was suddenly flanked by two concrete machine-gun nests and a cannon… not dissimilar to what Paul would find back on German military bases.
The wheels of their carriage continued to trek on, and as they got deeper and deeper into the unassuming wild, columns of troops were spotted marching alongside the road. Ponies and materiel were being hauled by hoof… what couldn’t fit in similar caravans such as Paul’s, of course. These sightings only increased as they progressed further through the base’s perimeter.
Perhaps a mite too soon, the convoy came to a gradual stop. Peeking over the carriage, Paul found that they had arrived at a guard gate to what he figured was the main headquarters of the forward operating base.
This was further corroborated by the, this time, four machine guns guarding the entrance. Two flanked either side of the entryway with a direct-fire cannon to support either side on top of that.
This still never ceased the conversation at hand, though the German’s senses were on heightened alert… his eyes shifted in a multitude of directions and his right hand was ready to draw his concealed Luger at a moment’s notice.
“Yeah, I figured as much…” Schnee followed up to one of his earlier assertions.
Paul’s sideways glance took note of all of these defenses, and his stoicism was met with faces of varying inquisitiveness and contempt from the operators of the aforementioned heavy weaponry. Paul knew he had nothing to be afraid of, as he was the equivalent of a VIP at this point… but that did not stymie the fears that those guns could, at an instant, turn on him.
Hell, an entire army attacking from the front would be naught but mulch at the defense network that had been set up.
The general feelings of unease for a soldier of his caliber could be controlled, though they would never go away. The hollow feeling in his stomach despite having eating plentifully on the ship stemmed from fear of what would happen to Seerose should anything happen to him.
Under that visor-cap and deep within that thick skull of his, he always had to flash a reminder through his consciousness that he could not take any needless risks anymore. He was not on the Eastern front fighting to survive, where anything might as well have been a good idea. No, he was in tenuously-allied territory… and if something were to go horribly wrong, his safety could not be guaranteed.
Even less so back on Earth, but for now, he actually had something to come home to.
“...so I honestly would’ve expected a bit more from him, to be completely honest,” Paul finished his ramblings to his new, if temporary conversation partner.
The latter giggled into her hoof, and Schnee was about to respond when the sound of a masculine voice clearing their throat ceased all talk at an instant.
Both attentions were captured; Paul and Schnee found a grey-coated, orange-eyed Alemaneian Army Captain staring them both down expectantly.
Especially Schneeblume, whom he regarded with a measure of contempt and disappointment. The former’s posture slackened as she angled her helmeted-head downward, though she quickly corrected herself and resumed the stoicism expected of her.
The newcomer turned his gaze onto Paul, whom was less than phased at the rather poor attempt to intimidate him.
“Colonel Paul Werner?” came the terse, fateful inquiry.
Paul nodded once.
“Indeed.”
The newcomer then extended his garbed right hoof outward in salute, which Paul returned with a much more traditional gesture.
“I’m Major Iron Crucible. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“I assure you, the pleasure is all mine,” Paul replied dryly. “Shall we?”
Iron Crucible gestured towards the dirt ground beneath them.
“Let’s. We’re behind schedule as it is.”
Paul nodded, then turned back towards Schneeblume. A gentle smirk formed on his face and he gave her a respectful salute.
“Thank you for the conversation, Lieutenant. Until we meet again.”
Schnee allowed herself to weakly smile in kind, and she mimicked the salute in return.
“Thank you, sir. Yourself as well. See you later!”
Iron Crucible had something to say about that, and he growled through gritted teeth:
“You will salute properly in my presence, Lieutenant.”
With a reluctance that was lost on nopony, Schneeblume sighed and extended her right hoof up and out. Paul could not dismiss her salute any quicker.
Without a further word, Paul got to his feet and dropped down from the carriage, his boots on Alemaneian soil for the second time with the sound of crushed dirt.
“Please follow me,” Iron Crucible bade, and led Paul around the side of the carriage towards the guard gate.
Before he could disappear out of sight, Paul loosed a single smirk in Schneeblume’s direction, which she returned in her own subtle fashion.
Paul was led into the largest building within the compound. He was flanked by two soldiers attached to his hip the moment he entered through the first gate, and there they were to remain at Iron Crucible’s order.
Entering into the compound yielded a rather spartan foyer, pristine white tile having been laid while ponies of varying ranks and functions cantered along. Orders were incessantly barked from all directions and Paul felt his body had no room to maneuver with such activity taking place on this base… and he had been in this position many times.
He also forgot about his silent guards. That probably contributed to the feeling, in his mind.
A short trip up a lift brought them to the command center, as it read in Alemaneian. The main entrance which lay right outside the lift was flanked by two Alemaneian Stormtroopers, who saluted Major Iron Crucible in perfect synchronization. They guarded a single, room-length door that held a turn-lock at the center.
The latter gestured to Paul.
“Pat it down.”
Referring to him as an object or animal was not lost on the German, though through his stoicism, he let it slide… especially since the aforementioned troopers stepped forward.
“Arms out, legs wide, creature,” came the smooth, assertive order from the left-most soldier.
In Paul’s mind, whatever expected behavior with an officer of a foreign military had clearly gone out the window the deeper he made it into the oupost. Still, he complied to make this easier. Whatever would get him to Aryanne sooner was welcome.
He did as they commanded, and both ponies stood on their hind legs to begin frisking him. The left pat down every inch of his body starting with his collar and arms, while the right started from his legs up.
The trooper who acknowledged him had come to his chest, where she felt a distinct mass under the left side of his jacket.
She cocked an emotionless eyebrow.
“Was ist das?”
Paul answered honestly.
“Meine Pistole.”
The Private glanced back at her superior officer who was looking on, and the latter nodded. With one last scrutinizing gaze upon Paul’s face, the mare pushed off of him and reset herself on her hooves. Her comrade did the same.
“Alles ist gut.”
The major nodded and the pair of guards trot back to their posts. One twisted the turn-lock and the other opened the door outward by hooking his hoof in the lone handle.
Paul was then led forward and greeted by an expansive command center. Several rows of desks sported military commanders and their adjutants going about their business. Paul could not hone in on specific functions as it was just as much of an organized chaos in here as it was on the base proper.
Though, as Paul stepped into the humid room bustling with life, he did notice the enormous window pane that lined the front of the command center, one which overlooked the Mareitonian border.
Right at the center speaking to her advisors with their backs turned to him, was his prize… the Generalfeldmarschall in full uniform, busy in deep discussion. That uniform and mane style was instantly recognizable.
Iron Crucible weighed in, gesturing towards the highest ranking officer.
“She’s expecting you, so I would—”
“ARYANNE!” Paul bellowed, letting his voice instantly draw the ears and attention of every single pony in the room.
All perked up and turned, wide-eyed to face him… all except the pony he wanted to see.
Instead, she calmly lifted her head up, exposing the back of her head and her visor-cap. She then turned around to properly face him from across the room…
...and Paul could have sworn that time slowed down when he looked upon her face. He subconsciously took the smallest step back.
Aryanne looked upon him with her usual pristine, white-coated face that had a distinctive, spider-webbing wound on her right cheek. Her bangs carefully veiled another horizontal, healing laceration. Her left eye was completely covered by an eyepatch which held stained, folded gauze underneath. Every single wound her face sported marred her once perfect visage with small dots and blotches of blood.
Yet through her healing yet grotesque injuries, she etched a smile on her face once she made eye-contact with Paul.
The smile was genuine… but it matched the state of her features perfectly. It was wide.
It was out of place.
It was… sick.
And her eyes shown of one who was not of complete, sound mind, even from this distance.
Paul allowed a single shiver to run down his spine. This was the only time, to date, that Aryanne had ever terrified him to some degree.
“Paul!” she called back, waving.
And then, her cheshire, sickly smile returned.
“You’ve come!”
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The Owl Road Groper Toad.
Ah fuck. This war's happening boys.
Edit: Seems that was the last war. Although there are a couple sentences after this one where you write Seerose when you mean to write Scheeblum.
She's gone insane... I can't wait to see how this turns out!
Ahhhh crap... methinks that whatever shell landed near her to do that damaged has knocked just a few more screws loose in that deranged mind of hers...
Should we do the worrying for our newest German friend...?
By Sveta's bouncy tits. It updated! And I was not disappointed. Looks like things are getting intense.
Wait, the soldier mare shares the same name as Paul 's daughter?
After this line. You mixed up Schnee's and Seerose's name a few times.
"Hey, look! Isn't that weird looking high ranking officer from Equestria who has the ears of the Royal Sisters and was scheduled to come to our country at the request of Aryanne herself? let's treat him like dirt"
There is racism and there is mind boggling idiocy.
Awww
jeez...
And ooof... this won't end well methinks... for either party.
Calling it now, Paul is gonna have to shoot her at some point.
Good show Flame! Good show!
She seems surprisingly happy to see Paul considering that she probably knows he's there to stop her. I guess she's really lost her marbles.
Or she just can't wait to show him the might of Alemaneian military and be like ''My army's dick is bigger than your army's.''
Or she secretly mad about him. Probably not.
8367515
Nah, it's gonna be a trilogy.
8367223
Fixed. Thank you
I see that
I am getting a Balalaika,Sofiya Pavlovena feel from Aryanne
i.ytimg.com/vi/kmI2y9bCm40/hqdefault.jpg
pm1.narvii.com/5908/ae7ca94547d22a187d66ab0e153ee421d737ff6a_hq.jpg
That about sums things up nicely.
A wild Schneeblume has appeared! That was a lovely scene. I wonder if this will tie into her running off to Equestria, or if it's just an AU with her staying.
Either way, good chapter. Aryanne has truly lost it, or she's on her way there. Paul has his work definitely cut out for him.
Also, spiderweb wounds on her face - do they also glow? She better not tell Shepard, or Shep'll take it as plagiarism
8367555
A few lines above that have the same error as well
Enjoyed Paul's new friend too
Aryanne isn't quite so adorable to see anymore it would seem. She may be kinda evil, but I feel bad for her.
Paul save her from herself.
“Yeah, I figured as much…” Seerose followed up to one of his earlier assertions.
Wrong name used here...
Ahhhhh... The triangle is now primed, so the SS Werner-Herbstlich-Land is about ready to set sail!
I can see it now; Paul and Schneeblum commiserating over similar histories and mutual desire to escape Aryanne. Aryanne gets wind of their liaison, sticks her nose in, and gets a luger-butt upside the head. Which, weirdly enough, knocks sense into her long enough for her to find out that Roselein is a long-lost relative, which makes Aryanne reconsider her life choices and decide she wants into the herd.
And then they bang. (But not in-story) The end.
Perfect!
8367515
Maybe a glancing wound to accentuate what Paul is likely to try force-feeding her is just what she needs.
8367529
Whoops, missed your comment somehow, but really now?
Hmm... eh, still calling it, he's gonna have to do it.
8371868
Mayhaps!
As disturbing as her views of the world is, I really don't want to see her going down this road.
I'm loving this story, but I'm hoping that this works out in the end.
Fingers crossed the MP40 is just a red herring for what may happen...
Yeah, I'm still lovin' this! More when you can, please!
I think, its going to be a long hard road for Paul to even get back to Equerstria. This worlds version of WW2 is going to start soon, and I can feel it.Aryanne is totally out of her damn mind. She's only hellbent on revenge.
Oh shit.
That's the one thing I wasn't expecting.
I remember that there was a famous German Officer that staged an attempted coup against Hitler. He's a seriously big deal in Germany.
But Hitler survived his bombing.
And the great German hero was executed.
Still, I wonder if he had succeeded...
You better not leave Seerose an Orphan again.
I'm warning you.
She's too precious to lose.
8367555
hey flammenwerfer I'm having some confusion about Schnee. in "The Flower Mare" Schnee left the Alemaneian military after Equidae Continental War and want to Equestria and started a flower shop. but in this story shes still in the Alemaneian military after Equidae Continental War. um unless I'm missing something these two stories are contradicting each other despite being in the same universe lore. or is one an alternate universe story?
8488543
Good eye, and yes, these are different universes. This is one where she stayed in the military
8489090
ah so it was AU, thanks for clearin that up :)
I'm looking forward to the next chapter of this!, you got me hooked since Parallels,
thanks for the great read!
NEED MOAR
this was a nice read i look forward to more. i'm hoping paul can talk some sense into her so he can save his daughter, schnee, and the rest of the world. thanks to the other two stories with schnee i really like her.
8489090
not even Pepper Ridge Farms can remember the last time this updated....
This story and universe is nothing short of stellar.